


la belle bête

by certifiedweirdo



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Harley Keener & Peter Parker Friendship, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Protective Harley Keener, Protective May Parker (Spider-Man), Protective Ned Leeds, Protective Tony Stark, Sexual Abuse, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:20:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23388643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/certifiedweirdo/pseuds/certifiedweirdo
Summary: He was supposed to be safe there.It wasn't like when he was Spider-Man. It's okay when Spider-Man gets hurt because that's his decision--he knows the risk. This was where he was supposed to be safe and protected, but he wasn't.Not anymore.(a slightly different take on the "May's abusive boyfriend" trope)
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 5
Kudos: 71





	1. chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> Please see the tags for trigger warnings!

Dying wasn't like he’d expected. It wasn’t like falling asleep, or a bright light, or the end of a tunnel, or a peaceful feeling. No, it was dustiness, and his skin chipping away, and his bones disintegrating, and his hand clutching at Tony, and--

The point is that dying really changes your perspective. 

He didn’t hesitate to hug Mr. Stark the next time they saw each other after waking up on a battlefield (from one fight to another). They were definitely there now. 

The rest of his first day back was a bit of a blur, a flurry of emotions, panic, hospital waiting rooms, and phone calls. Well, phone call. And then May showed up, and they both hugged, and cried, and sat, and talked. 

At first, he’d refused to leave the waiting room. But Mr. Rhodes had promised to let him know any news, and all but ordered him to go home. And he was exhausted, to be honest. You’d think that after five years of being dead, he’d be well rested, but apparently not.

So Peter let May lead him out of the hospital--which had been hijacked by the Avengers after the Compound was destroyed--and before he could even contemplate how the hell they were gonna get home, he was ushered into the passenger seat of a small, green car. “W-what?” His voice was still hoarse, as if unused to speaking. 

“Oh, right,” May chuckled, settling into the driver’s seat next to him. “I got a new car while. . . last year. Like it?”

Peter found his mouth was suddenly dry and tears he didn’t even know were left gathered in his eyes. He blinked them away and looked around. “Yeah, it’s, uh, it’s nice.” It really was nice. Much nicer than they ever could’ve afforded before. But it also reminded him of the five years he’d missed, where May went on without him.

It didn’t look like she had any trouble.

Maybe that wasn’t fair. She’d always assured Peter he was her child, and he knew, rationally, that it must have taken her a long time to grieve before going on with her life. She still did, though. She now had a life completely outside of him, so much of her that Peter had no clue about. 

That thought just made more tears gather in Peter’s eyes and he pretended to look out the side window while he swiped at them with his sweater sleeve (he didn’t even know whose it was--surely not his own). No doubt, May saw them, but she said nothing, and started the car.

“I think I’m just gonna take a nap,” Peter said, just to break the silence.

“Sure, sweetie.” May smiled at him, and he could see the empathy in her eyes. It was too much--he had to look away before he cried yet again. 

They drove away towards the city, and Peter did not sleep. His eyes bore out the window, never wavering as they maneuvered the busy city roads and annoying ass traffic. Part of him wanted to never blink, to bask in the view of his city. Everything, even the angry car horns and the stuck up pedestrians reminded him he was alive, and he never wanted to forget that fact. 

The other part of him remembered that his mentor (the man who held him while he died) was left behind them, not getting this privilege. And the relief of being alive was overshadowed by his fear of what could happen, and the desperation for it to not, for Mr. Stark to be okay. Peter let out a shuttering, broken breath at the thought that he might not be, and he rested his head on the car window.

May didn’t say anything, just reached over and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

The rest of the ride was spent about the same way--Peter torn between anxiety and relief, blank eyes staring at the buildings it feels like he’d seen just yesterday (he hadn’t), May comforting him, no spoken words. 

Peter, trying not to think at all, didn’t pay attention to their route. His daze was broken when the car parked, and he looked around. “Where are we?” It still felt weird to speak. He hadn’t died, technically, just ceased to exist for a few years, but it seemed as though his body didn’t know that. 

“This is our apartment.” May put the car in park but didn’t turn it off. “We moved in about two years ago.” A small smile appeared on her lips.

“We?” Peter’s stomach dropped, more so than he thought possible.

“There’s some things I’ve gotta tell you, before we go up,” May started, turning to face him in her seat. Peter could feel her familiar eyes staring into his soul, it seemed. “I, uh, I met someone a few years after the Blip.” At Peter’s obvious confusion, she clarified-- “That’s what everyone’s been calling it, what happened five years ago. I think it could’ve been better named, honestly, but. . .” 

“Wait, you have a boyfriend?”

May bit her lip, like she’d been expecting the question but wasn’t quite sure how to answer. “No, not exactly.” 

Peter could practically hear the gears turning inside his head. “Wait. . .”

Their eyes met and a sheepish smile appeared on May’s lips. “Her name is Belle.”

Peter had no clue how to react. When he finally regained the ability to speak, he simply replied, “wow.” He, obviously, didn’t have a problem with it, but it was not at all what he’d been expecting. To be fair, from his perspective, it had only been about a day since he bid her goodbye and left for his field trip. For her, it had been years. 

When he noticed how worried his aunt looked at his lackluster reaction, he snapped out of it. “May, that’s great! When do I get to meet her?”

“How about right now?” Okay, so that was definitely not what he expected, although he probably should have. She did say that this was “their” apartment. 

“Sure!” Peter plastered as wide a smile as he could on his face, given the current circumstances, and hoped it didn’t look as insincere as it felt. It seemed to work, and May’s worried smile morphed into a genuine grin. 

“Great, let’s head up.”

The new apartment building was much nicer than their old one--the elevator worked and there were a ton of windows in the lobby which made it look larger than it was (it reminded him of the tower). Peter watched the numbers above the elevator door light up as they reached each level, then came to a halt at the sixth floor. Feeling like he was in some dumb inspirational movie, he took a dramatic deep breath before stepping off into the corridor. 

His legs felt odd as he followed his aunt down the hallway robotically. She peeked back at him periodically, as if afraid he’d disappear if she looked away for too long. He was, too. The more he pondered on the weird feeling in his legs, the more he felt like they were about to turn to dust right underneath him. He stumbled on nothing at that thought.

Lost in his thoughts, Peter almost ran into May when she stopped and dug in her bag for a key. He’d never seen that bag before. 

As his eyes roamed around the corridor, decorated with a few potted plants, light walls, and a carpet that appeared much nicer than the one at their old apartment, he realized how dazed he probably looked, taking it all in. It felt like none of the past 48 or so hours had truly happened.

Belle wasn’t what he expected. Though he didn’t have much time to expect anything. May introduced them, her arm around Peter’s shoulders holding tight, as if she, too, was afraid he’d suddenly disappear. 

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, Peter! I’ve heard so much about you.” A woman of about his aunt’s height extended an open hand. She had orange hair and a few freckles across her face that was lined with age. As they shook hands, Peter noted she had a firm grip. He absently wondered what she did for work before remembering he should reply.

“Uh, good things, I hope.” The response felt awkward and dumb even as he spoke it. “It’s good to meet you, too.” 

Belle smiled warmly before welcoming May with a light kiss, and taking her bag to place on the kitchen table. It’d been so long since Peter had seen his aunt kiss anyone--that anyone being Ben--that this was a shock.

He took the opportunity to let his eyes explore the apartment. It was considerably larger than their old one, with a living room to his left lit with big windows, a kitchen and dining table to the right, and a hallway straight ahead with some half-open doors. 

“Peter,” May’s voice interrupted, “come see your new room.” He followed her into the hallway, almost bumping into Belle as he passed her. The walls of the hallway were covered in photos--of May and Belle, but also of him and his aunt, and his parents, and Mr. Stark.

May entered the last room in the hallway, gesturing for him to follow. The room held a plain bedroom with white walls, a grey bed, and a dresser with a plastic bag resting on top. “I know it’s not much--this was the guest room--but we’ll go out tomorrow and get some of your stuff back.”

“You still have it?”

“Well, not everything. We’ll have to get you a new phone, and I didn’t keep all your clothes--but I got Belle to run out and pick up some while I got you--” she pointed to the bag on the dresser, “but I kept a lot. It’s in storage, but I can take you out there tomorrow morning if you’d like?”

Peter didn’t remember them having a storage container. “Yeah, that sounds great, May.”

His aunt grinned at him, but her eyes were oddly wet. He was struck again with the realization of how long he’d been gone--his aunt had grieved over him for years. He couldn’t imagine what she was going through right now. It would be like if his Uncle Ben showed up without a warning. At that thought, he leant over and hugged his aunt tightly, and if he felt the wetness on his shoulder where her face rested, he said nothing.


	2. chapter two

The world possessed a strange talent for adjusting to abnormal situations (abnormal is a bit of an understatement, Peter thought). When he woke up the next morning, light streaming through the curtains he hadn’t thought to close before passing out, a new cell phone sat on the table beside him. Upon further inspection, he found it was set up with his name and account--May must have gone out and got it for him last night, he figured. After pushing back the thin comforter, he jumped over the bed--it was faster--and reached for the open curtains. He paused before closing them, even as the sun was blinding his eyes, as he looked at the buildings outside. 

He recognized the area outside--not overly far from their old apartment, but in a nicer neighborhood. Mr. Delmar’s won’t be on the way to school, anymore. With that realization came a million questions, and he yanked the curtains shut. 

How was school going to work--had it been exactly five years? Did Midtown even exist anymore? Would he be going to school with kids that had just been in middle school the other day? Oh, shit. What happened to Ned? And MJ, and everyone he knew? 

Peter knew he should just leave his room, see if May knew anything. But, as stupid as it sounded, he was kind of scared. He’d just fought on an alien planet, died, fought in another battle after un-dying, and saw his mentor maybe-die (which he was trying desperately not to think about, his gut wrenching each time he remembered), and here he was scared to go into the living room. Pathetic. But it was like he was in a stranger’s house, not knowing how to act, not wanting to be rude or inhospitable. 

Instead, he picked up the phone again and downloaded a few apps. Twitter, first. Judging by the trending page (#WhatTheFuckIsHappening, #Blip, #TheyreBack), a lot of people were freaking out. Understandably. Reading through some news articles from the past twenty four hours, he discovered more about the situation. Cities had to deal with double the amount of people, many who don’t have a place to live anymore, rehabilitating the staggering amount of buildings that had been abandoned in the five years, and preparing for life to return to its pre-Blip form. Why the hell the people who remained decided to name the event that caused the death of half of all living things by the most ridiculous name ever, he had no clue. 

Twenty minutes later, after reading enough tweets that he had a general idea of what was going on, Peter turned the phone off, falling back onto the bed with a dramatic sigh. Judging by the lack of mention of Mr. Stark, Pepper seemed to be doing a good job of keeping the situation quiet. He could see Mr. Stark in his mind, as he was after he snapped the gauntlet, the entire right side of his body burnt and--Peter’s chest was aching, and he jumped onto his feet with a gasp. Okay, time to go see May. 

Fuck, why was he so damn nervous? He was going to see his aunt, for God’s sake. 

He closed the door silently behind him, bare feet slapping on the floor even as he tried to go unnoticed. His fingers swept across the picture frames as he walked. He heard voices talking in the kitchen, and realized he hadn’t heard them in the guest room. That was odd--normally he could hear too much, not too little. May and Belle looked up, both smiling as he entered. 

His feet stopped him awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen, unsure what to do now. May ignored the tension in the air, walking around the counter that divided them to wrap him in a hug. His arms wrapped around her as he relished in the comfort. Even after the quick hug ended, her hand rested supportively on his shoulder and led him to sit at the counter. “Pancakes?” 

“Uh, yes please.” He watched Belle flip pancakes on the stovetop, and added, “good morning, Belle.” 

She turned halfway to shoot him a smile. “Morning, Peter.” 

May squeezed his shoulder before opening some cupboards and drawers around the kitchen. She took out three sets of cutlery and began setting them on the table. Peter hit his foot metronomically against the stool next to his. May and Belle seemed to work together effortlessly as they prepared the meal, spinning past each other in the kitchen. He realized he should probably go sit at the table his aunt set up, but waited until she said, “here, Peter.”

His legs felt heavy as they dragged across the tile floor. As he sat, the microwave clock caught his eye and he realized it was after noon. “Why aren’t you at work?” 

“I have the day off,” May said, sitting across from him and placing pancakes in front of both of them. “Most people do, actually. It’s mainly essential workers in today.”

Belle sat to his left and started smearing butter on her own pancakes. Peter twirled his fork in his hand before stabbing it into the food in front of him. 

May nodded her head as if remembering something. “Did you see your new phone? I left it in your room.”

Peter nodded before swallowing his food quickly. “Yeah, thanks! You didn’t have to.”

His aunt sent him a faux-stern look. “Shh. It must be different from your old phone. What, with five years of changes.”

It really wasn’t, but he forced a grin and nodded anyway. That reminded him of something he’d meant to ask right away. “May, do you know what happened to Ned? If he was. . .” He wasn’t sure what to call it. “If he disappeared?”

His aunt stopped eating at the subject change, her fork resting on the table. “Yeah, so did his father. Heather and I met up for coffee a few times, but we haven’t talked in a while.” 

Not that it pleased him to hear his best friend had also died, but he was at least happy he wouldn’t be going back to school, whenever that happened, alone. The rest of the meal passed peacefully, May and Belle talking about their work schedules in the upcoming days--Peter learned that Belle owned a small but successful business, selling products in bulk to companies--and filling Peter in on some of the last five years. Some of which were very surprising. 

“You dated Happy?!” Peter was sure he looked like a fish out of water at the moment, but he couldn’t help it. That was a matchup he did not expect--even less than May and Belle. 

The two women found his surprise hilarious, and it took his aunt a few minutes before she could respond without breaking out into giggles. “Only for a few weeks. It didn’t work out.” She smiled at her girlfriend. “Obviously.”

After that revelation, they washed up the dishes together and Peter went back to the guest room to grab his phone. 

Joking and conversation with his aunt and Belle made him feel a lot more comfortable, even if the topics he tried to evade were tugging at his thoughts. 

He didn’t notice May had followed him into the guest room until he heard the unmade bed creak behind him as he picked up the phone. 

“Oh, hey, aunt May.” She simply smiled sadly in response. “What’s up?” His eyebrows furrowed as he sat on the mattress next to her. 

“Pepper told me about what happened with Tony.” Peter felt his heart clench as he looked away, lips pressed together. 

“Yeah,” he whispered. 

He felt a gentle hand rest on his shoulder and leant into the touch. May responded by wrapping her arm around him. “Pepper sent me some updates this morning.” Peter tilted his head to see her face. “She said he’s okay,” (the “for now” in that sentence went unspoken but understood), “and he’s in a coma. Medically induced.”

Against his will, a sob escaped Peter immediately and a few tears collected in the corners of his eyes. It was good news, better than expected, but he’d been holding that in since he left the battlefield. May just pulled him in closer, his head on her shoulder. 

“She also said you can visit him, if you want.” He nodded immediately, as she’d probably expected. “Is later today okay?” Again, all he did was nod in answer, sure that if he spoke, all that would result was sobs. He didn’t want to embarrass himself. 

They stayed like that for a bit. Peter collected himself, May seemed to find as much comfort in the embrace as he did. Finally, he pulled away, rubbing at his wet under eyes. “Can we watch a movie?” He asked, voice hoarse. 

“Of course,” May assured, squeezing his shoulder one last time before standing. “Star Wars?”

He smiled. “Obviously.”

*

A few hours later, the end credits ran (they’d watched A New Hope and The Empire Strikes Back) as Peter snored in the armchair facing the living room windows. Belle and May lay on the couch opposite the television, cuddled up in a fuzzy blanket. “Y’know, I didn’t watch Star Wars until I was, like, at least 25,” Belle stated. 

“Really? I’m pretty sure I saw these two at least ten times before I finished high school.” May chuckled. “I was a bit of a nerd.”

Belle poked her in the side. “Was?”

Eyes glaring jokingly, May swatted her hand. “Rude.” She sighed, pushing herself into a sitting position and grabbing the remote from the coffee table. “I have to go get ready if we’re gonna visit Tony today.” 

Belle pouted as her girlfriend sat up, but followed suit. “You can go shower now, I’ll start supper so you two can eat before you leave.”

May kissed her on the cheek. “Love you,” she said as she headed to the washroom. 

Peter awoke to the sound of the shower running. He rubbed his tired eyes with his fists harshly, then paused when he noticed Belle watching him. “Where’s May?” 

Belle nodded her head toward the hallway. “In the shower.”

Peter nodded, not knowing what else to say. He didn’t quite know Belle yet and this was an awkward atmosphere, without May to be the leader of the conversations. God, he wished he brought his new phone out here. The device currently sitting on the bedside table in the guest room would be a great way to avoid small talk without being outright and leaving the room. 

“I never really wanted kids, you know.” Belle spoke first, breaking Peter out of his thoughts. How the hell was he supposed to answer that? She had a pensive look on her face, observing his reaction before nodding to herself. “You don’t seem too bad, though.” The once-over she gave him made him pull his knees in close to his chest. He felt like an animal in a zoo. 

“Uh, thanks, I guess?” She only squinted at him for another minute before rising and walking into the kitchen as if nothing happened.

Peter took the chance to scurry back to the guest room, now fully awake after that strange conversation. He shut the door behind him, then grabbed his phone and lay on the bed. May had offered, during the first movie, to send his new phone number to Ned’s mother, and there were five new messages waiting for him. He read the most recent one. 

Ned: but anyway,, i heard we’re supposed to go back to school next monday. if you ask me it’s a bit early, like seriously they give us six days!! what the heck!

The first few messages weren’t quite as easy-going, but this one brought a smile to his face. Choosing not to reply to the serious messages, he typed out a response. 

Peter: haha yeah they could at least give us a full week before torturing us all

Ned: i’m glad we still get to go to school together though

Ned: not that i’m glad we both disappeared

Ned: but kinda

Peter felt a small smile tug at his lips as he read.

Peter: me too

He should probably start getting ready, if they were still planning on visiting Mr. Stark today. After shutting the door and plucking the plastic bag from the dresser, he dumped the contents of the bag on the bed to see what clothes he had. Plain, solid-colour shirts, a pair of jeans, and some jogging pants fell out as well as some socks and underwear. He chose a random shirt and the jeans, hoping they fit. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror atop the dresser. Shit--he looked like a mess. There was no way he could go see Pepper and Mr. Stark like this. When was the last time he showered? 

Carrying the clothes under his arm, he walked towards the bathroom down the hall. As he passed the kitchen and living room, he saw May and Belle sitting on the two stools, phones in hand. He stopped. “Hey, uh, can I go take a shower?”

They both turned when he spoke. “Yeah, of course, sweetie,” May answered, furrowing her eyebrows at him. “You don’t need to ask.”

Peter just smiled, mumbling an “okay,” and scurried to the washroom at the other end of the hall from the guest room. 

Half an hour later, the Parkers stood just inside the apartment door, bidding goodbye to Belle. She gave May a kiss on the cheek and Peter a pat on the back before they left, shutting the door behind them. 

The ride to the hospital was quiet. Peter gazed out the window the whole time, fist pressed to his mouth as he tried to calm the rampant anxiety running through his body. The thought of seeing Mr. Stark half-dead was one he’d been avoiding since the battle, and for good reason. He was so anxious that he honestly might throw up. 

Pepper had sent May the location--a private room in the same hospital she picked Peter up from the day previous. With the compound destroyed, they were hoping to get him moved to the Tower when he’s stable. But for now, he was stuck there. 

Peter forced himself to take calming breaths as May drove (he even tried to remember those stupid breathing exercises he learned in health class last year), but his attempts were in vain as his anxiety only heightened as they neared the hospital. 

To Peter’s surprise, May didn’t park in the main lot but continued around the building to stop in a lot with just six spots, four being filled. He took a few final deep breaths, eyes closed, before following his aunt’s footsteps and unbuckling his seatbelt. As soon as he walked to the front of the car, he felt her arm wrap around his shoulders. He settled into the half-hug, needing any comfort he could get at the moment. 

Pepper met them just inside the door, a nearly-empty cup of styrofoam coffee in her hand. She had bags underneath her eyes and looked the least put-together Peter had ever seen her. Understandably. She greeted them both with a hug before drinking the remaining, probably bitter, coffee in her hand. She tossed the empty cup in the trash as she started speaking. “He’s just upstairs.” 

She led them toward the staircase to Peter’s left. “Happy ran out to grab us all some food and coffee awhile ago.” She glanced at her watch. “He should be almost here, actually.”

They climbed the stairs and Pepper opened the door straight across the hall. It opened into a private waiting room. Peter recognized Mr. Rhodes, who was looking exhausted, scrolling through his phone absentmindedly. The other kid he did not know. He looked about Peter’s age, and kept sighing and running his fingers through his hair every five seconds. 

The room had six chairs--which, Peter reasoned, was probably why most of the Avengers weren’t here--as well as a table with a coffee machine, a stack of cups, and a fake plant. He eyed the shut door ahead of him as Pepper gently closed the one they’d entered through. 

Mr. Rhodes put his phone on the table to his left. “Hey, Peter,” he said with a polite smile. 

Peter forced himself to smile back, even though he was sure neither of them were really in the mood to. “Hi, Mr. Rhodes.” 

The other kid didn’t acknowledge their presence other than a slight wave to Pepper. She walked around Peter to the closed door. “Here, Peter.” She shot him an encouraging smile as her hand grabbed the doorknob. He felt May squeeze his shoulder, and he followed Pepper into the second room. 

The room was bigger than a normal hospital room (but when was anything about Mr. Stark normal?). A windowsill lay covered in flowers, reminding Peter that he probably should have brought some. The bed was right by the open curtained.

Pepper pat his shoulder. “I’ll be in the waiting room,” she said, before leaving him alone. He half wished she would stay. He didn’t think he could do this alone. Sweaty hands holding on desperately to his own t-shirt, he stepped tentatively toward the bed.

If Peter tried really hard, he could pretend Mr. Stark was just asleep. If he just ignored his pale face, and the IV lines, and the beeping machines surrounding him, and the half of his face that was bruised and a mess, and the empty space where his right arm should be. He felt a sob escape him, not even realizing he’d been crying, and hoped they couldn’t hear it from the other room. 

He maneuvered his shaky legs into the chair aside the bed and rested his head in his palms, breathing harshly. He had never been particularly religious, he couldn’t even remember the last time he was in a church, but he found himself praying to whatever deity could help that Mr. Stark would be okay. Maybe it was selfish to be thinking of himself right now, but he didn’t think he could handle losing his mentor right now, and his heart ached for the people sitting just outside this room who were probably thinking the exact same thing, for Pepper, and for Morgan, and for Rhodey, and for Happy, and even for that other random kid. He knew Mr. Stark was important to so many people--not just those who were waiting by his side or his friends, but to millions of people across the world. He remembered being a little kid, traumatized with his parents’ death, who wouldn’t leave May and Ben’s apartment without that plastic iron man mask on. 

But most of all, his heart ached for Mr. Stark. He didn’t deserve this. If anybody deserved to live peacefully with his wife and daughter and--did somebody mention he had an alpaca yesterday? It’d been so long since he’d seen Mr. Stark for the other man. 

Peter lifted his head when he heard a door open and voices in the connected room. He could only bear to look at Mr. Stark one more time, before wiping his face and walking back into the other room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're gonna pretend the tower was never sold also pls forgive me if living in new york is super unrealistic in this story i literally live in the opposite of nyc


End file.
